


Falling in love which is not the Russian way

by Dreameater55taker



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Coming Out, Love Confessions, M/M, Romancing Solo style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 22:17:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9405425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreameater55taker/pseuds/Dreameater55taker
Summary: Solo and Illya falling in love.





	

Solo sat down on Illya’s desk, “I don’t like it.”  
Illya looked up at him, “Why are you on my desk?” He pulled his report away looking annoyed.  
“Because I don’t like it. Things are getting quiet. There are six agents and not a thing for us to do.” Solo crossed his arms.  
“Cowboy get off my desk.” Illya frowned up at him, “Now, is it wrong that no one wants to end the world?” He shook his head, “You are terrible.”  
Solo shrugged but didn’t move, “Peril, do you ever get the suspicion that something bigger is happening because nothing is happening? Honestly, we already know Waverly doesn’t see anything.”  
“I don’t.” He smacked Solo with a stack of papers, “Off.”  
“Fine, I’ll just get to business.” Leaning down, Solo pressed a kiss to Illya’s lips before he slid off his desk, walking away.  
Illya stood up slamming his hands down on the desk, “What was that?”  
“It’s called a kiss, Peril. Something people here in Western Europe are actually pretty comfortable with.” Solo shrugged.  
“Why did you kiss me?” Illya glowered at him, “I am no woman.”  
Solo rolled his eyes, sitting down at his own desk, working on paperwork that was already mostly finished, “Why do people kiss, Peril? And believe me, I know you’re no woman.”  
“You tell me, Cowboy.” Illya marched over to him spinning the chair around, his arms boxing Solo in.  
Solo inclined his head, unfazed by Illya’s aggressive behavior, “Because I’ve been thinking about it since U.N.C.L.E. was formed.”  
“About what?” Illya’s voice dipped lower while his finger started to tick.  
Solo rolled his eyes again, “Honestly, do I need to spell it out?” He glanced down at Illya’s hand, “I didn’t think this would work you up in such a way. I like you, Illya. I like you romantically and no, it’s not because I see you as feminine in anyway. You’re probably the most masculine fellow I’ve ever met.”  
“When were you into men? This isn’t the Russian way. I can’t like men.” Illya frowned at him.  
“I told you since U.N.C.L.E. formed. It’s not the American way either but we’re not in America nor Russia, now are we? We’re in Britain and like I said, Western Europe is rather tolerant of these things.” Solo shrugged. “I’ve had to do some messing around for the CIA but this is different.”  
Illya frowned, “You wish to be with me? You hate me.”  
“Maybe when we first met but things change.” Solo smiled a little, “Besides, we’re partners now for an international organization. I can’t say things change much more than that.”  
“We are partners... Do you not have an affection for chop shop girl?” Illya raised his eyebrow, “If I do if you are hurt I can’t guarantee that I will not kill. I will not allow infidelity.”  
Solo tipped his head to the side a little, “I’ll have you know that when I’m in a committed relationship, I hold no place for anyone else. Missions, however, sometimes require a little pretend.” His eyes looked down at Illya’s hand for a moment, “Would you be able to handle that?”  
“I would try.” Illya frowned before grabbing Solo’s hair pulling him up into a dominating kiss that left the shorter man flushed and with red lips, “Or you may suffer a little.” He turned on his heel walking back to his desk going back to work on his report.  
Solo nodded before clearing his throat and fixing his hair, “Noted.”  
“Good.” Illya nodded his head.  
“So, we’re a thing now?” Solo asked, turning his chair around and got back to his paperwork, “And no, I don’t have a thing for Gaby.”  
“We are.” Illya grunted at him, “I will be over for dinner tonight.”  
Solo nodded, “I’ll make something for both of us then.”  
“Good. Now finish your report.” Illya glowered at him.  
“Fine, fine.” Solo worked more, having it done soon.  
Illya stood up leaving to deliver his report before walking back, “Hurry up Cowboy.”  
Solo chuckled, getting his report in, “That much in a hurry to eat what I’m cooking?”  
“Yes.” Illya nodded his head, “I am hungry.”  
“Come on then.” Solo led Illya outside to where their cars were parked, “Meet you there?”  
“I will be there,” Illya grunted as he slid into his car driving away already.  
Chuckling, Solo got in his own car and drove towards his home, unlocking the door when Illya pulled in, “Get lost?” He glanced at the Russian before opening his door and waiting.  
“No.” He stepped out holding a glass rose, “You are a romantic.”  
Solo looked at the rose, blinking before looking up at Illya, “It’s beautiful.”  
“You don’t like things that will die off.” Illya placed the rose in his hand.  
“That’s true. I prefer things that last.” He found a vase in the house, putting the glass rose in the vase and in the middle of the dining table, “Sorry I didn’t have time to prepare for guests.” Even as he said that his house was as tidy as ever.  
“I don’t mind.” Illya glanced around as he started to check the security of the house.  
Solo went into the kitchen, “What are you doing?” He slid a drawer out, lifting a tray in the drawer and satisfied that all the lights were still green on a small switchboard before putting the tray back. Grabbing an apron, he started pulling things out to cook with.  
“You are never safe enough,” Illya grumbled as he checked all the windows.  
“Suit yourself.” Solo shrugged as Illya investigated the small apartment. He got to work chopping everything and getting it all cooked. “You dislike any common foods I should know about before I get too far in this?”  
“American foods,” Illya called over his shoulder.  
Solo rolled his eyes, “Okay, any vegetables you don’t like? Beets, carrots, cabbage, onions?”  
“I dislike corn.” Illya walked into the kitchen looking at the watch he was making.  
“Okay, this won’t have any corn in it.” Solo got everything in the pot and started stirring.  
“Thank you.” Illya nodded his head.  
Solo nodded, “It’d be rude to put it in knowing you don’t like it.” He smiled at Illya, “Can’t ruin our first evening together like that.”  
“You shouldn’t.” Illya nodded his head.  
“So, how long are you staying?” Solo got out bowls and cups, setting the table and set out a pot holder before using oven mitts to move the pot to the table.  
“Undecided.” Illya he crossed his arms as he leaned against one of the counters.  
Solo nodded, “Okay. Come on and eat.” He pulled a chair out for Illya before sitting down himself and serving the soup.  
Illya sat down, “You’re cooking seems okay.” Illya started to eat the soup.  
“I do live alone. If you can’t cook living alone, you don’t make it far.” Solo started eating his own bowl.  
Illya eats quickly before going back for more, “We must do this more often.”  
Solo smirked, “Glad you like my cooking.” He emptied his bowl before filling it with more soup and eating.  
“It’s okay.” Illya finished then went for another serving.  
“Uh-huh. That’s why you’re having thirds.” Solo chuckled, leaning back in his chair, having finished his second bowl.  
“Shut it, Cowboy,” Illya growled as he finished up the soup.  
Solo chuckled, standing up and taking all the dishes to the kitchen, “Glad you liked it.” Setting the dishes in the sink, he started washing them. Illya grunted at him, then carrying his dishes over. “You know, if we’re really going to be a thing, you can stop pretending to hate me.”  
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Illya raised an eyebrow.  
“Just admit that the food was good.” Solo challenged, getting the dishes washed and put on a drying mat.  
“I was being honest.” Illya chuckled, “I ate it.”  
“With fervor,” Solo smirked, drying his hands off. “What do you want to do now?”  
“I shouldn’t overstay my visit.”   
Solo shrugged, “If you feel you must. Thank you for the rose.” He leaned up, pecking Illya on the lips, “Good night.”  
“Sleep well, Cowboy.” Illya leaned down kissing Solo in a gentle manner.  
“You too. See you tomorrow, Peril.” Solo walked Illya to the door, letting him out before shutting and locking it. He wandered his home, listening to the radio for a while before shutting it off and going to bed.


End file.
